


Therefore, You and Me

by QueenOfTheNerdlords



Series: Heirs of Despair (DND) [4]
Category: Heirs Of Despair
Genre: Child Abandonment, Confusion, Demisexuality, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Spoilers, Teenage Drama, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheNerdlords/pseuds/QueenOfTheNerdlords
Summary: A sword with no hilt.A bowl of stew with no broth.These things do not add up.
Relationships: Darkeethus Voshk/Veda (Heirs of Despair), Kira Voshk/Darkeethus Voshk, Thiara Greykid/Darkeethus Voshk
Series: Heirs of Despair (DND) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753102
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Therefore, You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> this is the song to vibe to for this fic:  
> https://youtu.be/5yCOiKrnkC8

Thiara knows what romance and sex are.

It doesn't mean she likes either one of them.

_At least, she thought she didn't._

Before, she could never really understand the obsession with it all. She knew that sexual relations probably felt better for men, but from what she knows, it hurts for women.

Besides that, however, why did everyone pursue romance?

Romance is unstable, it's a nightmare, it will eat you _whole_.

Thiara is entirely sure that it ate up her mother, that her mother fell in love with a nobleman who abandoned her the minute she bore his child. That Elorai spent most of her entire life trying to gain the affections of someone who probably couldn't have feelings in the first place. She's seen countless people, from maids, to men, to slaves with no future fall for the con that is "love".

The ghostly feel of hands either caressing or cutting her body still lingered, and the more she remembered the more it felt like she was breathing in smoke.

Memories popped up, hands grabbed her gently, she remembers seeing rope burn around her mother's neck.

Many, many, times, Thiara would wrap her tiny hands around her own throat and squeeze.

It was a reminder of what **love** would get you.

She swore she would never fall for anyone like that.

She wasn't so stupid to believe love was innocent and kind. Love meant you gave up your body for someone. Love meant you could get cheated. Love meant you could get rejected. Love meant that you lost your childhood.

**Love got you _killed_.**

_So, why..._

Why did she fall for someone anyways?

Darkeethus was nothing special, at least she tried to convince herself that. He was old, he was tired, he could often be quite socially inept and downright stupid at times, and she wasn't even that sure that he regarded her as that much of a friend. He was a widower and currently _~~(disgustingly)~~_ interested in Veda. Honestly, she was more mad at Darkeethus than Veda for that, Veda didn't deserve any advances. It's cruel and unfair to her to expose her to something so life-shattering.

Darkeethus was an idiot, an overly sentimental _idiot_ who cared way too much about the wrong people and she had only known him for a couple of months. And yet, she couldn't fully believe all the insults she mentally tacked onto him, no matter how much she tried to sully her own opinion of him.

She shouldn't care that his favorite food is reddened half-raw meat, particularly beef.

She shouldn't care to remember his ex-wife's name.

She shouldn't want to keep asking him _meaningless_ questions.

She shouldn't want to make him _smile_.

_His smile shouldn't make her heart flutter._

_**Wretched, nauseating, disgusting!** _

Love is such a _vile_ thing.

If it was friendship, it would be purer and softer. She would not feel this kind of empty obsession, she would not feel this kind of sickening hollowness, she wouldn't feel so utterly and completely helpless to her own emotions.

She curses herself for being so very stupid.

Even if, and she tells this to her foolish ~~(broken)~~ heart, that even if he could possibly ever feel the same way (which he didn't), then he would be nothing more than another disgusting adult chasing after children. He'd be just like the rest of them.

_Clench your fists._

_Swallow your sour tears._

_Be quiet._

And _then_ , you might be allowed to live.

_This wasn't an exception._

She would never get to hold his hand in that way, she would never be anything special to anyone, much less him. She didn't want to see him look at her with contempt. She didn't want the others to look at her in disgust. She didn't want to become like the people who _loved_ her. She didn't want her head held high by a noose.

They did not make sense.

She did not make sense.

She wishes she didn't think about being held, about being close to him.

She shouldn't have even befriended these people _at all_.

So, like she did with her mother's decaying eyes, like she did for the depths of The Pit, like she did for every potential friend she's lost and every potential innocent she stole the life from, she will lock it away and forget.

She will forget it eventually, she tells herself, because there is no other logical option.

If she remembers, she will die.

She will force her body to break and bend until she decides life is not worth living.

Love means nothing, family means nothing, friendship means nothing. Despite this, she wants them all so very badly.

But she is a fool and she is weak, and she will not think otherwise.

She does not know how to let herself feel, so she will repeat these words to herself.

 _"I am a broken doll."_ She thinks.

 _"You are a distant shadow."_ She thinks.

**"Therefore, you and I do not add up."**

**Author's Note:**

> a brim with no yankee
> 
> a yankee with no brim


End file.
